In The Clinic
by MTF
Summary: House surprises Wilson while he is working the clinic. Clinic patient's POV House/Wilson slash


So yeah, I dont own anything even sort of related to anything. This is my first fic, so dont murder me. Its House/Wilson slash from a clinic patients POV, and I don't really like how Wilson turned out, he is OOC probably.

I should have known better. I should have told him something else, anything other than the truth, but it was too late. I promised myself next time I was sick, I would sooner shoot myself than give my uncle anything even remotely resembling a heads-up. But its too late now. I'm in the car on my way to the hospital before I even hang up on him. Even if it is because he just pulled a massive guilt trip on me, I know he's right. I've had a horribly sore throat for days, and I obviously need more than Tylenol and crappy canned soup.

I pulled into the hospital parking lot, passing a motorcycle in a handicapped spot and giving it the confused look it deserves. I was busy thinking about the handicapped owner of the motorcycle when I nearly hit a young doctor walking towards the building. I slammed my foot on the brakes, and realized my fevered brain was playing tricks on me, the blonde and shaggy-haired man was at least twenty feet away, and I was moving at an embarassing seven miles per hour. He looked up as I sucked my eyeballs back into my head, and grinned. I smiled back weakly. I found a spot quickly after that, hoping vaguely it wasn't his car I had just dented with the driver's side door in my haste to get out.

I tottered inside the hospital towards what I hoped was the clinic. A kind nurse quickly sat me down with all the necessary paperwork. When I had finished filling it all out, I looked around. It was pretty empty, an old man and a middle-aged couple were the only other visible patients. I noticed the papers still in my lap, and carried them over to the nurse's station. I got back to my seat without incident, but was surprised to hear my name called minutes later. The same kind nurse as before directed me to an exam room, and I was left wondering if I really did look that sick, or if the old man and the couple were assholes and making them wait was the nurse's revenge. I couldn't care less at that point, I just wanted to curl up and sleep for a week.

I was starting to nod off when a doctor entered the room. He was talking, but I was to far out of it to understand, so I just looked him up and down for a second. He was attractive, early forties probably. His clothing was neat and professional, and he had cute, sort of floppy brown hair, and very brown eyes. I managed to hold back my drool. I suddenly snapped to attention when I saw him stop talking.

"Huh?"

Nice. Very eloquent.

"I said, I'm Dr. Wilson, What seems to be the problem?"

Oh God, he's polite too. I'm going to make a fool of myself.

"Well, I, uh, I guess I'm sick."

What are you five?!

"Is that so?"

He had both eyebrows raised, and an amused glitter was hiding in his eyes.

"Um, yeah. I've had a, uh, really sore throat for a few days, and I, I mean, my, uh, uncle actually, said I should get it checked out or something."

Thankfully, he didn't ask many more questions. He swabbed my throat, and promised to be back in twenty minutes to tell me if it was strep or not. I sighed inwardly as he left. I'm such an idiot. Luckily, I made the twenty minutes without passing out completely, but it was damn close. I looked up as he walked in. He frowned.

"Well, unfortunately, the test was positive."

Of course it was. I sighed.

"I'll write you a prescription, and after a week or so of rest, you should be fine."

I had just opened my mouth to ask him if he would consider calling my uncle and telling him I was fine, when the door was thrown open. We both jumped slightly, and looked up to see a man in the doorway. He wasn't much older than Dr. Wilson, but had a very different look about him. He held a black cane with his right hand (with flames at the bottom, I noticed rather amusedly) and was dressed in very relaxed clothes, jeans and a dark t-shirt. His hair was close cropped and speckled with gray, while his face was overtaken with harsh stubble. Despite his rather scruffy appearance, he was pretty hot, but I still had the presence of mind to not open my mouth and say it. I watched, rather confused, as he stepped towards Dr. Wilson.

"House! What the hell-"

He stopped talking when House wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed him. He shot me a panicked look, one that clearly asked if I was going to report them or whatever. I just grinned back. Dr. Wilson sighed, and put his hands gently on House's shoulders, drawing him closer. I saw House's left hand slowly travel up the slightly shorter man's side, and finally come to rest in very soft-looking hair. I had just enough time to sigh at the fact that they were gay, and thus not interested in me, when their lips separated. They stayed close for a second, looking into each other's eyes. Suddenly, House grinned. He shouted as he walked out the door,

"Meet me in coma guy's room for General Hospital. And bring lunch!"

There was an awkward silence for a second, as footsteps faded.

"So," I finally said, "what's for lunch?"

He grinned.


End file.
